


grab a ray of sunshine

by arielf17



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Childhood Friends, Coming Out, Dancing, F/M, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Music, Poetry, Transphobia, musician!Steve, nb!bucky, nb!loki, poet!bucky, they/them pronouns, transphobic language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-24 00:38:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21329353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arielf17/pseuds/arielf17
Summary: Bucky Barnes reconnects with their childhood friend Steve Rogers, both attending the same college. Steve is a musician, Bucky is a poet, and there are other people there too.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 1
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so there are poems in this? in universe they were written by Bucky and out of universe they were written by me. I really loved writing it so I hope you enjoy this uni au!

When Bucky Barnes met Steve Rogers, the second time, not the first, Steven Grant Rogers was performing at an open mic night. Steve stated that the playlist was designed especially for his most recent ex-boyfriend: Not the Only One by Sam Smith, In Short from Edges, and Fight Song by Rachel Platten. 

Bucky recognized Steve immediately. They were flooded with memories as Steve’s voice filtered through the cafe. Offering a hand to a 4 year old Steve, not knowing that he wouldn’t take it. Offering a hand to an 11 year old Steve, knowing they would do anything to help him whether he wanted their help or not, because that’s what best friends do. They remembered hugging Steve close after his mother’s funeral, ruffling his golden hair and telling him they’d miss him. 

Bucky’s protective instincts kicked in. They kinda wanted to find Steve’s ex and kick the shit out of him. Or maybe write him a strongly worded letter. Bucky didn’t really get in fights. Anymore. They couldn’t face Steve, not with how much they’d changed. 

Bucky tried to rush out after the show was over, but they heard their name. Somehow the way Steve said their name was the same, desperate and frantic, but familiar and safe. That was Steve Rogers. A tempest in a teacup. Not in the traditional sense, not making something big out of something small, but an unknowably fast hurricane, hypothetical to meteorologists, but not to Bucky. When Steve Rogers was born, they had to stuff him into a porcelain container so he wouldn’t split the world down the middle. It broke his spine and crushed his lungs and ruptured his eardrums, but damn if the cyclone didn’t keep spinning. 

“Bucky Barnes?” 

Bucky turned slowly. They didn’t even realize that they’d stopped in their tracks, waxing poetic about Steve Rogers like they were falling in love with him too young for the first time all over again. Apparently Bucky’s childhood best friend/first crush could still do that to them. Steve looked mostly the same, still lithe and wiry with a voice that was too deep and a nose that was too busted for his small frame. 

“Steve, hi,” said Bucky. 

“Were you seriously going to leave without saying hello?” asked Steve. 

Steve’s tone was light, but his expression was earnest. Bucky chuckled nervously and scratched the back of their neck. 

“I was sure I’d see you around. You’re not exactly easy to miss.”

“Yeah,” laughed Steve, “I was to everyone but you, pal. I hardly recognized you with all that hair.” 

Bucky fiddled with a loose strand that fell out of the poorly done little French braids that kept their hair out of their face. 

“It looks good. The braids are nice. We should exchange numbers and catch up sometime.” 

Bucky fumbled through their pockets, eventually happening upon their cell phone. They typed their number into Steve’s phone, putting their name as Bucky. They assumed Steve didn’t know any other Buckys. Hardly anyone did. 

When Bucky got their phone back, there was a new contact under  _ steve rogers _ . Bucky didn’t mean to sigh wistfully as they meant up against the closed door of the dorm room. 

“Open mic night was that good? You never even read anything,” groaned Loki, “you just sit there writing more sad poetry.” 

Bucky collapsed onto their bed. This caused Loki to sit up and raise a curious eyebrow. 

“There was this musician tonight. Remember I told you about that guy from grade school?” 

“Ugh, don’t remind me. You’re such a romantic, Barnes. I can just Skype my brother for that kind of nonsense.” 

Bucky tolled their head and looked their roommate in the eye. 

“You love my nonsense,” they said. 

“What else am I supposed to tease you about?” asked Loki. 

Bucky snorted. 

“I just never thought I’d see him again,” said Bucky. 

“Oh God, I’m gonna have to meet this person.”

#

tempest in a teacup

_ you were too _

_ big _

_ weren’t you _

_ too stormy for me _

_ but I loved you anyway _

_ God help me but _

_ I loved you anyway _

_ no one could get close to you without _

_ dashing that shell _

_ that delicate shell _

_ you refused to see _

_ until there was just me _

_ standing in the eye of the hurricane _

#

Bucky wasn’t worried about coming out to Steve. Really, they weren’t. They were just bouncing their knee under the table and ripping the plastic from their convenience store donuts into tiny little pieces for normal not being nervous reasons. Seriously. 

“Hey Buck.”

Steve smiled. Bucky wasn’t sure what would kill him first: Steve’s smile or the concept of Steve being upset. 

Bucky could practically hear Loki’s voice inside their head,  _ get a hold of yourself, Barnes, if you can’t talk to this guy after refusing to shut up about him I’m putting Jordy in your bed again.  _ Bucky had never been afraid of snakes, but they were sure that Jordy was...not of this world. 

“Hey,” said Bucky. 

Steve sat across from them and took off his hat. He ran his hand back through his hair and Bucky had to resist the urge to reach over and fluff his hair. They weren’t kids anymore. That was what Bucky kept telling themself, they weren’t kids anymore, he and Steve couldn’t just jump back in where they left off. 

“You doing okay, Bucky?” asked Steve. 

“I have to tell you something.” 

“Anything.”

Bucky spoke over the lump in their throat, held down their nerves and everything else they were feeling. 

“I’m non-binary. I use they/them pronouns. I came out the year after you left.” 

Steve reached over and put his hand over Bucky’s. Bucky could almost see the  _ bucky.exe has stopped working _ error message flashing in their brain. 

“I know I haven’t seen you in a long time,” he said, “but you’re still my favorite person. Ain’t nothing that can change that. I’m with you to the end of the line.” 

“Thanks, Steve. I’m sorry I was scared to tell you.”

Bucky swore the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees when Steve put both his hands in his pockets. 

“Don’t be, Bucky. I mean it.” 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

“Just read him one of the damn poems,” groaned Loki. 

“But it’s all really bad and dopey! They’re all about how much I wanna touch his hair!”

Loki sat up and raised an eyebrow at Bucky, who looked embarrassed. 

“Run it by me,” sighed Loki, “I promise I won’t make fun.” 

“Loki, you know I don’t-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But you’re crashing and burning. You haven’t seen this person since you were 13, and I can safely say that in my 19 years, I have never felt about anyone the way you feel about him. Given our age and my demeanor, that isn’t much, but it’s something. It pains me to say this, but you need my help, Bucky. So, put your emotional baggage back on the carousel and read the damn poem. You know me. You know I’m capable of kindness, even if no one else does.” 

“That’s just ‘cause you’re only nice to me,” said Bucky. 

They reached into their backpack and removed their poetry journal and flipped through it until they landed on the worst, hackneyed, cliched, dopiest poem they had written about Steve Rogers, entitled  _ light _ . 

“I wish I could reach out. Grab a ray of sunshine. I wish I could walk out. Grab a ray of sunshine. I wish I could hold you. Want you to be mine. I wish I could tell you. Want you to be mine.” 

Bucky pauses and looked at Loki, who -as promised- wasn’t laughing. 

“All I want is to hear you, we can dance on a moonbeam. All I want is to see you, you are not as you seem. You are the one who knows me, I am not as I seem. Sing a song for me, we can dance on a moonbeam.” 

“Sounds kind of like a song to me,” mused Loki, “now, if only you knew a musician.”

Loki was right. Bucky didn’t dare say that, because saying “you’re right” to their roommate usually resulted in a Skype call to Norway where Loki and their brother screeched at each other in no less than three languages while Loki gesticulated wildly with their pet snake. 

“I think I can ask him for help,” said Bucky, “I just...he hasn’t met my friends.” 

Loki hadn’t laughed at Bucky’s poem. But the fact that Steve hadn’t met their friends, Loki laughed at that. 

“Seriously? Sorry as I am to say, you can trust them. I mean, setting aside Bruce, who’s remarkably level-headed for that group, Barton is disastrous, Romanov is completely unreadable, and Stark is...Stark, but they love you. They’ll tease you, but they’ll also help you.” 

“Yeah,” sighed Bucky, “I guess you’re right.”

“Text your stupid friends. I have to call my stupid brother.”

Bucky nodded. 

“Thanks for listening, Loki.”

“I know I can be a proper bastard sometimes. I try not to be that way with you. I can trust you. I won’t go so far as to say that you can trust me, given that I’m the youngest of three and a serial prankster, but us mischievous types can be fiercely loyal when it comes to our quiet artsy roommates.” 

“I know.” 

#

the trickster god

_ liar is such an ugly word _

_ the daughter _

_ the son _

_ the child who is both _

_ people say too much _

_ of the youngest _

_ and liar is such an ugly word _

_ illusionist _

_ they may be _

_ magician _

_ they may be _

_ prankster _

_ they may be _

_ they may be _

_ unwise at times _

_ but always there when I need them _

_ so I’m here _

_ for the trickster god _

#

Bucky twiddled their thumbs more than they’d ever twiddled their thumbs in their life. 

“You’re freaking out for no good reason, Bucky. We’re not gonna scare him off,” said Natasha. 

“Loathe as I am to admit it, she’s right, if that ameliorates any of your stress,” said Tony. 

“Ameliorate? Did Pepper get you a word of the day calendar?” asked Bruce. 

“No,” said Tony, “I know big words, I just think they’re stupid.” 

“Yeah, Bruce,” said Clint, “like your FACE.”

Bucky slammed their head down on the table. It was official. They were doomed. 

“That you down there, Buck?” 

Bucky sat up slowly. Steve was standing there smirking. 

“Hey,” said Bucky. 

Tony kicked him underneath the table. 

“These are my friends,” said Bucky, “Natasha, Clint, Bruce, and Tony.” 

Steve waved, then his eyes settled on Clint. 

“Are those hearing aids?” he asked. 

“Um...yeah.”

Steve quickly turned towards Bucky and gasped. 

“YOU REPLACED ME!” 

“Steve.”

“No Bucky, it’s fine. I thought there was only room in your heart for one hard of hearing blond guy, but clearly I was mistaken-“

“Well Steve,” said Bruce, “let’s compare and contrast. Our Clint is a bit of a dumbass. Falling out of windows-”

“Stitches, rabies shots,” added Tony, “more stitches, more rabies shots.” 

“Once,” said Steve, “this kid was bullying Bucky’s sister, so while Bucky was taking care of Becca I punched the kid in the face.”

“He left out the fact that we were eleven,” said Bucky, “and that we had to take you to the hospital, because he broke your nose and stole your inhaler.” 

“Oh god,” whispered Natasha, “there’s two of them.”

“See? You totally replaced me,” said Steve. 

“Don’t be jealous, Stevie, you’re irreplaceable. I know you know that, you’re just making a fuss to try and embarrass me.” 

“Jerk.”

“Punk.” 

“Oh God. Bucky, has Steve met Loki?” asked Tony. 

“Shut up, Tony,” said Bucky. 

“Who’s Loki?” asked Steve. 

“My roommate. They spend most of the time Skyping with their brother and taking care of their pet snake.” 

“They have a snake in the dorms?” asked Steve. 

“Jordy is perfectly tame, and he never leaves our room.” 

“What about that poem you wrote, Midgard Serpent?” asked Tony. 

“First of all, that was unrelated, and a metaphor, second of all, stop going through my poetry journal.”

“Aww, you don’t let people read your stuff anymore?” asked Steve. 

The table’s collective attention snapped towards Steve. 

“Bucky never lets people read their stuff,” said Tony, “that’s why I steal their journal.”

“Oh,” said Steve, “well, when we were kids, can I tell them, Bucky?” 

Bucky looked at Steve’s expression, earnest and kind and just a little sad, and Bucky knew exactly what Steve wanted to tell the others. 

“Yeah, go ahead.” 

Steve nodded. 

“Well, Bucky and I grew up together. Poetry was just something they did, it was always like second nature. Neither of us had a lot of money growing up, so when we had birthdays, I would draw them pictures, and they would write me poems. Our other friends would read Bucky’s other stuff too, but we were best friends, we shared everything. And then...”

Steve’s voice trailed off. He took a deep breath, then continued. 

“My mom passed away. I had to leave town after that, my aunt took me in. Before I left, Bucky gave me a poem. It was really beautiful.” 

“Before you ask, Tony,” added Bucky, “no, I do not have a copy of that.” 

“I do.”

Steve reached into his jacket pocket and removed a folded up piece of paper. 

“I always kept this with me, even if I didn’t reach out. Sorry about that, by the way.”

“It’s okay, Steve. You were going through a lot, and even that feels like an understatement.”

“This might be our heaviest casual conversation since I found out that my birth father was beaten to death by Russian prison guards,” said Natasha. 

“How the fuck did that happen?” asked Steve. 

“He was in prison in Russia.”

“Oh. My bad.” 

#

“So,” said Loki, “what I’m hearing here is that you didn’t ask him.” 

“I didn’t know he was going to talk about Sarah, or when we were kids!” cried Bucky. 

“So, if you’re too much of a disaster to ask him in person, then just text him.” 

“Fine, I will. Just...not today. Maybe when I’m used to being around him again.” 

“Is that why I’m not allowed to meet him?” asked Loki, laughing hysterically. 

“You can meet him,” said Bucky, “I’m just not gonna tell you where he lives or what classes he takes or anything that could enable you to track him down.” 

“What, scared he won’t like me, like your other friends?” 

“They don’t dislike you, they just think you’re creepy and off putting.”

“Everyone thinks that.”

“Not me.” 

“That’s because you’re crazy, Barnes. But Steve is different. You loooooove him,” cooed Loki, sounding about 12 years old. 

“Nuh uh, shut up,” retorted Bucky, sounding about 8 years old. 

There was a knock on the door. Bucky got up to answer it. And there stood Steve, outside their dorm room while Loki and them were both home. 

“Hey Steve,” said Bucky. 

Bucky heard more than saw Loki leap off their bed and run to the door. 

“Ah, so this is Steve,” said Loki, “I thought he’d be taller.” 

“Yeah, Bucky tells a big story,” said Steve, “I just wanted to see if you and your friends wanted to come to open mic night at the end of the month? I was actually here studying with my friend Sam across the hall, then when I left I was about to text you and saw your name on the door.”

“Sam?” asked Loki. 

“Wilson,” answered Bucky, “he hates us.” 

“Everybody hates us, but yeah I remember now. Steve, Bucky and his motley crew will definitely be there, I’ll see if I can get out of all the nothing I have planned.” 

“Thanks,” laughed Steve, “it was nice to meet you, Loki. See you around, Buck.” 

Loki shut the door gently behind Steve as Bucky tried desperately to get a hold of themself. 

“Get a hold of yourself,” said Loki, “I’ll go to the show, talk to Bruce, make sure you don’t shove your head even farther up your ass. And for God’s sake, learn how to do a proper French braid, I don’t know how Romanov can bear to be seen with you.”

“What about the others?”

“The rest of them all have terrible hair.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for panic attacks, as well as for transphobia, transphobic behavior and language! your neighborhood friendly trans writer with anxiety was very stressed writing this chapter because they (me) are a SOFT BEAN

“Ow!”

“Jesus Christ, Bucky, if you brushed your hair more than once a fortnight, it wouldn’t hurt so much,” chided Natasha, continuing to brush Bucky’s hair while Clint stood to the side, filmed them, and laughed. 

“You’re gonna look so cute, Bucky,” said Clint. 

“I don’t recall asking YOU for help, Clint,” growled Bucky. 

“We’re a package deal, Bucky,” said Natasha, “you should know that by now.” 

“Yeah, I know,” said Bucky, “are you guys still gonna come, even though Loki’s gonna be there?” 

“I might not,” chuckled Clint. 

Natasha whipped the hairbrush at him. Disappointingly, he caught it. 

“We’ll all be there,” said Natasha, “mostly for you, but we do like Steve. We always wondered about him, you always used to shut down when you’d talk about him.” 

That was true back when Bucky wasn’t sure if they would ever see Steve again. Back then, it hurt too much to talk about, it made Bucky miss Steve more than they already did. That was why they could talk about Steve with Loki before, Loki had people that they missed, even if they’d never admit it. 

But even with what little Bucky had told Natasha about Steve before, they were sure she’d known. Everyone had known, Sarah Rogers and Becca Barnes, Gabe and Monty and Dum Dum, Peggy and Sharon, everyone knew. Everyone knew that the first moment Bucky beheld Steve, their heart was irrevocably gone. 

Paraphrasing of Jane Austen aside, Bucky loved Steve, was in love with Steve, whatever a person wanted to call it, and Bucky knew that Natasha knew. Bucky was so in love with Steve, maybe even Clint knew. 

Natasha started to braid Bucky’s hair back. Clint refused to put his phone down, stop zooming artfully, or stop giggling. 

“Clint, shut up,” said Bucky, even though they knew their efforts were futile. 

“I’m all done, you big baby,” said Natasha, “Clint, show them.” 

Clint held his phone out further away from his face and smirked. 

“This is to show Bucky in 15 years when they deny being this nervous about Steve’s open mic night,” he said. 

He turned the phone to show Bucky what they looked like. Natasha had braided Bucky’s hair away from their face, and they were sure they wouldn’t have to awkwardly brush strands away from their face and mess up the braids even more. 

“That looks really nice. Thanks, Nat,” said Bucky. 

“No problem,” said Natasha. 

“Goddammit Bucky,” said Clint, “say you’re cute.”

“Put the phone away.”

“NOT UNTIL YOU SAY YOU’RE CUTE!”

“NEVER!” 

“FINE! THEN I’M CALLING YOUR STUPID BOYFRIEND!”

“HE’S NOT MY BOYFRIEND AND DON’T YOU DARE!” 

The footage ended with Bucky jumping onto Clint’s shoulders and tackling him to the ground. The braids stayed perfect. By the time there was a knock on the door, Bucky was sitting on Clint, who had shoved his phone into his pants to keep Bucky from getting it. Bucky only looked up when Tony cleared his throat, as he and the rest of their friends were waiting in the hallway. Natasha had answered the door. 

“This was probably an overreaction,” laughed Bucky. 

“No shit,” said Clint. 

“Bucky,” said Natasha, “get off my boyfriend. Clint, don’t be a dick.” 

Bucky stood up and brushed themself off. It was going to be a long night. Clint hopped to his feet. He and Natasha had to practically drag Bucky out of the building and down the street to the cafe. 

“Greetings, earthlings.” 

Loki was sitting on a bench across the street from the cafe, waiting semi-patiently. 

“Hey Loki,” said Bucky, “could you get these hooligans off me?” 

“Of course not. I have people for that.” 

Loki put two fingers in their mouth and whistled. Loki’s brother, Thor, jumped out of the bushes and waved, a big smile on his face. 

“Hello everyone!” he cried. 

“Oh, God help me,” sighed Bruce, not quite far enough under his breath. 

Bucky smiled. Thor was fun and loved his sibling a lot, and Bucky happened to count him as a friend. 

“Friend Thor!” called Bucky. 

“Friend Bucky!” replied Thor. 

Thor didn’t so much hug Bucky as lift them into the air and then put them back down again. 

“It’s nice to see you all again, Natasha, Clint, Tony.” 

Thor turned to Bruce, who was only staying upright by virtue of Tony’s arm casually slung around his shoulder. 

“It’s really lovely to see you again Bruce.” 

Bruce began to resemble a cartoon character who had just made some sort of sports mistake that was important to the plot for some reason. 

“Brother, you ought to help Bruce to the cafe,” said Loki, “he seems a bit faint.”

Thor offered Bruce his arm like a 19th century gentleman, but more beefy and Norwegian. 

“Loki, I’m-”

“Just take him,” said Tony, interrupting Bruce’s feeble protest and practically throwing him at Thor. 

Thor linked his arm with Bruce’s. The group of them walked into the cafe, and Thor immediately left to go get Bruce some water. 

“Bucky, get me out of here. This is how I die,” said Bruce. 

“Yes, a handsome foreigner is showering you with affection,” laughed Bucky, “truly, a fate worse than death.” 

The open mic night began just then, Bucky locked eyes with Steve who smiled, and Bucky mustered up a grin before slinking into their seat. 

“Wow,” said Bruce, “instant karma.”

“Oh, shut up.” 

Thor returned with water for Bruce just as Steve walked up on stage. 

“If he isn’t as good as you say he his, I will never let you hear the end of it,” teased Loki. 

“Hi guys,” said Steve, “I want to thank everyone for coming tonight, my old friends, my new friends...and my oldest friend. I’m so happy to see all of you.” 

Steve started to play his guitar, and Bucky felt like they were going to melt. Steve started singing, and Bucky recognized the song. 

“There’s no combination of words I could put on the back of a postcard. No song that I can sing but I can try for your heart.” 

Steve used to put this song on in the kitchen and dance for his mom, who was tired all the time and desperately needed the pick me up. 

“No song that I can sing but I can try for your heart.” 

Steve used to grab Bucky’s hands and ineffectually swing them about the kitchen while Sarah Rogers smiled. 

“Our dreams, and they are made out of real things, like a, shoebox of photographs with sepia tone loving.”

Steve used to get up on a stool so he’d be tall enough to spin Bucky around. 

“Love is the answer at least for most of the questions in my heart. Like why are we here? And where do we go? And how come it’s so hard?”

Steve fell off the stool every single time. 

“It’s not always easy and sometimes life can be deceiving. I’ll tell you one thing it’s always better when we’re together.” 

Bucky caught him every single time, and found themself singing along to the chorus, softly.

“Mmm, it’s always when we’re together. Yeah, we’ll look at them stars when we’re together. Well, it’s always better when we’re together. Yeah, it’s always better when we’re together.” 

#

“Bucky, did you sing along to  _ Better Together _ ?” asked Steve. 

Bucky scratched the back of their neck. 

“Uh, maybe? I was just remembering dancing in the kitchen, and your mom smiling at us, and-”

“I was hoping you might. I’m really glad to have you back, Buck.” 

Bucky saw Sam Wilson approach the two of them, which they were thankful for, because they had no response to what Steve had said that didn’t take the form of quatrains. 

“Steve, you gotta get out of here,” said Sam. 

“Don’t be silly, Sam. You haven’t met Bucky yet.” 

“Steve, I’m serious.” 

Bucky went cold at the sight of a familiar face. They shifted their gaze back to Steve and Sam. 

“Sam’s right,” said Bucky, “we should get the others and leave. Like, right now.” 

“Bucky, what’s wrong?” asked Steve. 

“Hey James. It’s been a while.” 

Bucky hated that they froze in that moment, faced with Brock Rumlow on what should have been a pleasant evening. Steve turned to see who had spoken. 

“Brock,” said Steve, “what the hell are you doing here?” 

“You don’t own the cafe, Steve. Or me, for that matter.” 

“I never tied you down or made you do anything,” said Steve, “I respected you and I cared about you and you cheated on me anyway.”

Bucky hadn’t needed another reason to hate Brock Rumlow, but they got one anyway. 

“Just leave,” said Bucky, “I told you to leave me alone and I told you not to call me James but you don’t listen. So just leave us alone.” 

“Whatever, man. It’s your name. Not like you’ll ever really be a girl anyway, you’re not even trying.” 

“Don’t talk to them like that,” said Steve. 

“I can say whatever I want,” said Brock, “and while we’re at it, I can sleep with whoever I want. Especially if my boyfriend at the time was unwilling.” 

Steve clenched his jaw. 

“Man, shut the hell up,” said Sam. 

“Whatever. Maybe you’ll grow up someday, Steve. Until then, have fun with your tranny boyfriend. God knows no one else will bother with either of you.” 

Bucky stayed frozen. They’d said their piece and Brock Rumlow had brushed them off and walked away just like they always knew he would. The guy who beat them up in high school had not only dated the love of Bucky’s life, but had cheated on him. Bucky stayed frozen, forced to listen to Steve and Sam, unable to move. 

“You alright, man?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, Sam. You okay, Buck?”   
  


“Uh...do they do this often?” 

“I...I don’t know. Go to that table back there and get their friends. 

Bucky didn’t entirely register the fact that Sam walked away, or the fact that he brought Loki back with him. 

“Hey Barnes. You still with us? I’m gonna get you back home, alright?” 

“I’m sorry, Loki. We saw my ex, he said some stuff-”

“It’s alright, Steve. I’ll text you once I get them back to our dorm. I’m sure Barton’s told you I’m a piece of work, but I take care of my friends, I promise. I’ll text you when we get back.” 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bucky is recovering from a nasty panic attack and it is implied that they've been not doing well. they're gonna be okay though I promise!!!

The first thing Bucky did when they woke up was check their phone. Loki had borrowed it last night and texted Steve  _ hey this is loki, my roommate has been safely escorted back to our dorm so you can stop worrying now _ . Bucky didn’t remember what they’d overheard after Brock left, but they didn’t particularly want to. Or do much of anything. Loki was out with their brother all day, so they knew no one could stop them. 

There was a knock on their door around 11 o’clock. Bucky could ignore it. The lights were out, there was no way whoever was knocking knew they were in. 

“Bucky, it’s Sam, from across the hall. Steve and Loki asked me to check in on you.” 

Bucky made their way to the door and opened it. Sure enough, Sam Wilson was standing there. 

“Welp, here I am, I’m alive. You have performed your duty to Steve.” 

“Hold up, Barnes. I’m worried too, and I’m not as easy to convince as Snake Kid and Captain Small Ass.” 

_ Don’t mention Steve’s ass in front of me,  _ thought Bucky,  _ I’m weak. _

Bucky stepped aside and turned the lights on. Sam walked inside the room and sat on Loki’s bed. Bucky sat back down on their bed. 

“How did you know Rumlow?” asked Sam. 

“We went to the same high school. He started beating me up after I came out as nonbinary. His dad was the school’s principal. Steve got in fights a lot when we were kids, but I started getting in trouble at school if I fought back against Brock, so I just laid low and tried not to bother him.” 

“Does Steve know that?” asked Sam. 

“If Steve knew, he would do something stupid. He’ll do something stupid anyway, I don’t need to go around giving him reasons.” 

“You freeze up a lot?”

Bucky nodded. 

“Steve was really worried. He really cares about you, Bucky.” 

“It’s nice of him to worry, but it’s not new, it’s just new to him. And of course he cares about me, he’s known me longer than my sister.” 

Sam narrowed his eyes. Bucky felt like an ant under a beam of light amplified through a magnifying glass. 

“Are you in love with him?” asked Sam. 

“God, you’re worse than Tasha,” sighed Bucky, “yes, I am. Always have been. Shakespeare called falling in love “catching your death”, like an illness he could have caught by brooding in the rain too long. It’s not like that, with me. It’s chronic, with me. It’s more like a condition than a disease, more like a haunting than an incident.” 

Sam raised an eyebrow, and Bucky realized they had said the stuff about Shakespeare and chronic conditions out loud, when they really hadn’t meant to. 

“I keep forgetting you’re a writer.” 

“One more thing I should tell you, Sam.” 

Sam nodded, assuming that Bucky was about to say something serious. 

“Unless you want me to wax poetic about it, don’t ever mention Steve’s ass in front of me ever again.” 

“Deal. I’m dragging your ass to get some food, though.”

“Fine.” 

After Bucky had gotten dressed, they walked with Sam to the dining hall. 

“Okay, so tell me about your friends,” said Sam, “because like, I know who they are, I just don’t know them.” 

“Um...why?” 

“Because you are madly in love with my best friend and I’m 99.99% sure that he is madly in love with you, and despite the fact that romance is gross, I platonically love Steve with all my heart and I will not be making myself scarce. Spill, Barnes.”

Bucky shrugged. Sam’s boldness didn’t matter much. It was only a matter of time before the whole campus was aware of the depths of Bucky’s romanticism, specifically how it did not end with Gothic poetry. 

“Well, Clint is basically Steve, but taller, and instead of being dedicated to art and music he is dedicated to dogs, pizza, coffee, and his girlfriend. Speaking of whom, Natasha Romanov. She’s fairly indescribable, but like, watch some clips of ballet dancers on YouTube while listening to  _ How I Could Just Kill A Man _ and that’ll give you a working knowledge.” 

“Damn.” 

“She’s sweet though. She does my hair sometimes. Tony is not arrogant without cause, he’s earned his issues, and he’s ride or die for his friends. And...Bruce is just a soft bi science nerd who gets on weirdly well with Loki.” 

“And he’s dating Loki’s brother, right?” 

“No, but not for lack of trying. Every time Thor’s in town, Bruce tries to ask him out, but mostly just ends up mumbling “Jesus give me strength” and then falls over. He’s a whole ass mood. Sadly, Thor misinterprets Bruce’s behavior, leading to awkward displays of chivalry.” 

“Speak of the devil,” laughed Sam, pointing at Loki and Thor, walking into the student center. 

Bucky cupped their hands and shouted as loud as they could. 

“FRIEND THOR!” 

Thor and Loki turned around. Thor ran towards Bucky and Sam while Loki walked at a leisurely pace.

“FRIEND BUCKY!” cried Thor. 

Thor lifted Bucky and shook them gently before setting them back down. 

“I am glad you are feeling better.” 

Bucky started walking towards the student center, the other three following in suit. 

“Your friend Steven is quite talented,” said Thor. 

Bucky nodded. They didn’t trust themself to speak without giving themself away to Thor, who was far more perceptive than most people gave him credit for. 

“Bucky’s been meaning to ask Steve with help with some lyrics,” said Loki. 

“Sort of. But he’s probably just as stressed as I am, after last night. I don’t want to bug him.” 

Loki shrugged. Bucky saw Steve out of the corner of their eye, and quickly hurried to the cafeteria upstairs. 

“Buck, wait.” 

Bucky realized that they’d been caught. They turned on the stairs to face Steve. He stood staggered on the stairs, one foot on the step above like an adventurer making a speech at a convenient stone. 

“Can we talk?” 

Bucky nodded, once more not trusting their voice one iota. Steve continued to ascend the stairs, and Bucky followed after him like a sad pathetic puppy-moth. They sat down across from Steve. 

“How do you know Brock?” asked Steve. 

“We went to the same high school for a while, he gave me a hard time about some stuff. It’s not that big of a deal, really.” 

“Buck, come on.” 

“Alright, Steve, fine. I hate the guy. I hate his breathing guts. He manipulated the system in high school so he could beat me up without getting in trouble, and I got in trouble if I fought back. He’s transphobic, and he cheated on you. But I know you, and I know how hard you fight for your family, so I’ll promise not to lie about whatever’s happened to me in that chunk of my past that you had to miss, but only if you promise that I will never have to fling your scrawny ass over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carry you away from whatever stupid decision you were about to make in the name of asthmatic vigilantism.” 

“I have muscles now. I’m not scrawny. I’m lithe.” 

Bucky had noticed, not that it mattered. 

“End of the line means we’re both there. That’s non-negotiable, Steve.”

Bucky held out their hand. Steve took their hand and squeezed it. 

“Alright, Buck. End of the line. I promise.” 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter! not that it matters because I'm posting this all in one night but HEY!

“Oh, Steve, that reminds me, I needed to ask you something.” 

Bucky felt the collective attention focus in on them. 

“What is it?” asked Steve. 

“I wrote something I thought might make good song lyrics, so I wondered if you wanted to take a look at it?” 

Bucky felt all the tension created by their friends dissipate.

“Of course. Meet me at the practice rooms later? I write better on the piano, I’ll text you, I’ve got to go to class.”

Steve ran off. All of Bucky’s friends stared at them. 

“What?”

“You’re killing us, Bucky,” said Clint. 

“You should have asked him out,” said Natasha. 

“That is not something I would make a public spectacle of,” replied Bucky. 

“Bucky, you’re locking yourself in a small room with the guy and writing,” said Bruce. 

“Something’s bound to come up,” added Tony. 

“Tell you what, Tony,” said Bucky, “I will burn that bridge when I come to it. Or maybe I’ll get more comfortable and manage to ask him out or somehow trick him into falling in love with me. Can we make fun of Bruce now?” 

“Yes,” said Natasha, “yes we can.” 

“Nat, please don’t do what you’re about to do,” pleaded Bruce. 

“Bruce, as your friend, I can no longer ignore the fact that your chaotic floundering has blossomed into real feelings for Norway’s Sweetheart.” 

“I literally begged you.” 

“Wait, what? You didn’t tell me? I thought we were best friends!” cried Tony. 

“Yeah, well, Nat tricked me,” said Bruce, “but I’ve only liked Thor for like, a year. Bucky’s liked Steve their whole life.” 

“Exactly,” said Bucky, “there’s still time for you. Save yourself.”

Bruce laughed. 

“I’m serious. I know a little something about waiting too long. Don’t.” 

Bruce smiled softly. 

“There’s still time for you too, Bucky,” he said. 

“Thanks, Bruce.”

#

time

_ a whole entire life _

_ is a short amount of time _

_ to wait for my love  _

#

Bucky paced back and forth in front of the music building. They had to keep moving or else they would lose their nerve. And then they’d have to explain to Steve why they lost their nerve. 

“Hey Buck, you alright?” 

Bucky turned around to face Steve. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Alright, come on then, let’s see what you’ve got.” 

Bucky followed Steve into the practice rooms and sat down in a chair at least four feet away from the piano. 

“Come on, if we’re gonna work together on this, you gotta sit up here with me,” said Steve, patting the piano bench. 

Bucky sat down next to Steve and definitely not tense up when their legs touched. Steve playfully elbowed them in the side. 

“Relax, pal, it’s just me.” 

_ Alright, _ thought Bucky,  _ maybe I did tense up. _

Bucky pulled their poetry journal out of their bag and flipped to the page that had  _ light.  _ They put the composition notebook up on the piano and let Steve read it. Bucky watched Steve as he read, face slowly morphing into an appreciative smile. 

“This is good, Bucky. We can work with this.” 

Steve began to play around with a few different melodies, his right hand dancing across the keys. He finally landed on one, playing the same tune a few times in a few different ways until he made his decision. He then began to play a series of chords. 

“What do you think?” asked Steve. 

“Sounds...happy.” 

“Is that bad?”

“No, it’s just...it’s a love poem. Those don’t always sound happy. At least not when I write them.”

“Fuck that,” said Steve, “have you ever heard the phrase “life imitates art?”” 

“Life imitates Art far more than Art imitates Life. The Decay of Lying, Oscar Wilde, 1889. But I’m guessing you’re not trying to open a dialogue about anti-mimetic philosophy.” 

“Not so much, no. When I sing Better Together, I can almost see my mom smiling at us, dancing in the kitchen, not a care in the world. I drew you while we were apart, and we found each other again, completely on accident. Life imitates art. I read that poem you wrote for me over and over again, knowing that it was okay to miss my mom and knowing that I’d be happy again one day.” 

Steve started to play the piano and nudged Bucky with his shoulder. 

“I wish you would reach out, touch the night sky,” sang Steve, “I wish you would walk out, touch the night sky. I wish you would hold me and want me to be yours. I wish you would tell me you want me to be yours.” 

#

“He’s killing me.” 

“Bucky.”

“He’s actively trying to kill me.”

“Bucky.”

“His actions will directly result in my death.” 

“Quit being so dramatic,” said Loki, “and that’s coming from me.” 

Bucky sat up on their bed. 

“Loki, when I die, I want you to burn my poetry journal. Scatter the ashes. No one will ever gaze upon my works again.” 

“Just talk to him,” grunted Loki. 

“I will not be doing anything of the sort.” 

“If you continue down this path, I will kill you before Steve ever gets the chance.” 

“Relax. I’ll probably have a complete mental breakdown and release all my secrets at once, like Pandora’s box releasing despair and pestilence.” 

“I hate you.” 

Bucky rolled their eyes. They knew they were being overdramatic, but they also didn’t know another way to act around Steve. Steve was all or nothing about everything, so Bucky ended up being all or nothing about Steve. Bucky sat up, and turned to face Loki. 

“What now?” asked Loki. 

“I gotta go.”

“Seriously?”

“I gotta be all or nothing about this.”

“You’re not all or nothing. You’re waffly and insecure and overly analytic.” 

“Not about this. I’ve always felt this way about him and I’ve always known this about myself. Time to steer into the skid.”

“Disgusting. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” 

Bucky smirked and started to leave. 

“And don’t do anything I would do. There’s a little grey area in there, and that’s where you operate.” 

“Thanks, Loki.” 

Bucky left the room and knocked on Sam’s door across the hall. 

“Hey, what’s up Barnes?” 

“Do you know where Steve is?” 

“He’s at the practice rooms. Just text him, you weirdo.”

“Thanks, Sam. Gotta go!”

“Weirdo.” 

Bucky took off running. Once they made it out of their dorm building, a blast of wind hit them in the face. They turned and ran toward the theater building, barreling past the entire track team and Coach Fury. 

“Watch where you’re going!”

“Sorry I have urgent business!” 

Bucky did not mention that their urgent business was talking to a boy. Daisy Johnson, who had called out to them as they ran past, was a known troll who would have never let them forget it. 

They burst into the hallway and listened for Steve. They found him, playing the song. Their song. The song they’d written together. Bucky timidly knocked on the door. Steve looked through the window while still playing. He saw that it was Bucky and stopped. He answered the door, and anything smooth or clever that Bucky had wanted to say left their head completely. 

“Hi. I’m in love with you. That’s it, gotta go, bye.” 

Bucky turned around and ran. They were really disappointed in themself, even though they weren’t quite sure what they thought was going to happen. They ran back into their dorm and locked the door. Luckily, Loki was nowhere to be seen. Bucky collapsed onto their bed, and just breathed. They couldn’t think of anything else to do. 

It could’ve been 43 minutes it could have been 2 hours, but a little while later, there was a knock on Bucky’s door. Bucky stood up and slowly made their way to the door. They shuffled there, before throwing the door open to Steve. 

“Didja mean it?” asked Steve. 

Bucky felt so small in that moment. Because there was doubt lurking in the air. And they didn’t know how to get rid of it. 

“Yeah,” said Bucky, “always have been.” 

Bucky stepped to the side and gestured for Steve to enter the room. Steve paced, and Bucky sat down on their bed. 

“Always - Jesus Christ, Buck. You can’t just go saying stuff like that.”

“Why not?” 

“‘Cause I’ll believe you. And I can’t say what I have to because I’ve never been good at it, so…”

Steve tapped away at his phone for a few seconds. He placed it on top of Bucky’s desk as smooth guitar music began to play. Steve took both Steve’s hands and pulled them to their feet. Steve wrapped his arms about Bucky’s waist. Bucky let their hands alight on Steve’s shoulders as the two of them swayed back and forth. Bucky thought they recognized the song, Steve sung only softly, beneath his breath.

“ Well, I know it's kind of late, I hope I didn't wake you. But what I've got to say can't wait,

I know you'd understand.” 

Bucky remembered the song just then, tilted their forehead against Steve’s and tried to sing along with him. 

“'Cause every time I tried to tell you, the words just came out wrong. So I'll have to say "I love you" in a song.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you liked this story! also I actually wrote that whole ass song? should I like? post that somewhere? like me singing and playing an instrument, once my throat is no longer #ded?


End file.
